A Return To Form
by DarkGamer0
Summary: Two similar, yet different loners. Two similar, yet different sports. Two different, yet similar families. One wants to forget the hell he used to be in. One wants to escape the hell she is in. Both have their own reason for taking up the racket. Yet, fate has a funny way of bringing them together. (Chapter 1 Re-Upload; Formatting Restored. See A/N for details).


**Chapter 1: Back to Square One**

Sobu High. A school renowned for its academics as much as it was for its rigorous sports training curriculum. Some of the elite among the elites attended this school, including my parents. In my case, there was a simple reason why I would choose this school.

It was the closest to my home.

Truly, what a high schooler like me needed from me was simply the basics and proximity. As a school that fit the criteria to land at rank 1 in my preferences, it was natural for me to apply there.

That was my first mistake.

Surprisingly, I had a personal meeting with the principal, my father standing in tow. Apparently, there had been frantic talks between them earlier and some sort of decision was now left up to me. The principal gently explained to me how this was all my choice and how there was no pressure on me from any side. And then the magical words popped up.

A 75% scholarship.

That was the offer on the table, from the principal of one of the top private schools in the prefecture, nay, the country. A school where people burned their life out in prep schools during junior high just to get a chance to apply and more often than not, their effort would amount to naught but compromise. It was evident that the principal placed some hope on me, despite knowing my history. As a former national level player, all that was required of me was to replicate my previous success; nothing more.

So naturally, I thanked the principal for the generous offer.

And declined it with equal grace.

Dad could only sigh at my words. I mean, what else did he expect? The principal, while surprised, tried his best to not let it show on his face. Even so, he offered us a 15% scholarship, in lieu of simply choosing to be here. Probably, the man wanted to use my name to ensnare other unsuspecting kids into joining here. Or at least, that's how I imagined he wanted to salvage the situation. A businessman through and through. Sees an opportunity in everything.

We walked out, the formalities having been done. The corridor we walked through displayed a series of framed photos, all of them depicting alumni bringing back prizes. A photo of a girl with short, black hair raising her gold medal to the sky caught my eye.

_Tch_.

We walked on.

**xxx**

Today was supposed to be my first day of high school.

My first day of a new life.

My first day of distancing myself from the hell I went through.

My first day among people new, with a reset on my relationships.

Ah, so many happy thoughts. So many positive thoughts.

Then why the hell was I lying on a hospital bed at a time I should've been out there in school, pretending to enjoy my youth?

Allow me to take you back to the day before, in the evening. Yours truly was walking around with a few light novels and um… extras materials in hand; talking a shortcut seemed like quite a good idea at the time. Suddenly, a typical flag opened up. 4 guys had cornered a hapless girl and were insisting, quite forcefully, that she accompany them for a good time. I wish I'd remembered the words 'Discretion is the better part of valor' before jumping in.

"Excuse me. I think you should let her go. She's not interested."

"Huh? Who are you?" One of the guys rudely answered back, before going back to business.

"The guy with a better chance of losing my virginity than you pathetic brutes." This got a rise of them, as they let the girl go and had turned towards me.

"Huh, want to go rounds with us, you damn high schooler? Just so you know, I'm a pretty capable fighter myself."

Okay, step 1 was to piss the guys off to create an opening for the girl to escape.

Uh, what was step 2 again?

Right, run.

Before this registered in my mind, the probable leader had closed the gap between us, enough so that when I turned back to run, he grabbed my hand and jerked me back hard. I toppled backwards, landing in a heap as the books splayed out from the bag.

It only took a second for them to descend on me a they started kicking me while I was down. I instinctively curled my body and covered the head with my hands as their kicking continued non-stop. I closed my eyes, hoping by some miracle that they would think me dead and the ordeal would finally stop.

I opened my eyes, and the next thing I know; I'm strapped to a bed in a hospital, Komachi and Dad in tow. She cried in my arms as I resorted to comforting her. It's all right, I said; Onii-chan's here now and completely fine, right? But she wouldn't stop worrying, would she? Never. She was my sister after all.

A police officer visited me later in the day. The perpetrators had been caught due to the presence of mind of the girl, who had taken photos from a distance and called for help in the nick of time. They required my statement for formality, and assured me I had done a good job. Tell me then, police officer, why was my reward for this _good job_ multiple hairline fractures in my limbs and a broken tooth, which would require a month of hospitalization? Truly, this world was unfair. Unfair to people like _me._

A month had thus passed by, and this was now _officially_ my first day of high school. By then, rumors had already spread of the delinquent who had gotten into a fight the first day of high school. Naturally, my dreams of a rosy high school debut and been truly and utterly _crushed._

Class 1-F was assigned to me, and since I had missed the introduction arc, I had been thrown in blind, with no one interested in making an approach. This works out well enough, I suppose. No expectations to betray if I had none in the first place.

Unfortunately, the Small Earth Theorem insinuated that I'd find a few faces who I'd know.

The girl two seats away from me, her long raven-black hair gave her the typical ojou-sama look, which she was. Her facial expressions showed her aloofness to her surroundings, and I wondered what she thought about us 'normies' around her. The worst part? I knew her.

Correction, I knew _of _her. She probably knew _of _me too.

Her name was Yukinoshita Yukino, and there was hardly anyone well-settled in Chiba who hadn't heard the Yukinoshita name. Her father ran a well-known construction firm that had looked to diversify in recent times and he was also the resident Diet member. The mother was a powerful socialite, who held lavish 'gatherings' for the rich, championing causes social and otherwise alike. Apparently, my mother and she were college mates; and all that amounted to was a forced invitation to her 40th birthday party a few years ago where a kid in junior high _did not belong_.

My formal introduction to this girl happened there. Which was a story for another time.

I was in no hurry of going anywhere _near_ this girl. Worst case scenario, _she _realizes I'm here through the mutual connection, which was not a thought I wanted to entertain. A rosy high school life for me entailed the non-involvement of _anything_ troublesome.

There were others too, of course. I highly doubt anyone else knew me here since I knew no one here. I knew _of _quite a few people though.

Hayama Hayato. His father was one of Chiba's best corporate lawyers; highly sought after by many. The boy himself was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, blessed with the holy triumvirate of looks, charms and brains; it was not wrong to say that he was probably the school's main idol among the first years. Even now during lunch break, there was a gaggle of people surrounding him. _That damn riajuu._

Miura Yumiko. Infamously referred to as the 'Fire Queen' among the girls here in Sobu, this blonde hothead was the leader among the people vying for Hayama's attention and looking miserable for it. Though, if you were to look at her from uh… certain angles, there was certainly some appeal to be seen, which was lacking in many other females of the class. Her father ran a private security firm, which was just fancy talk for bodyguard detail. A former JSDF soldier, the man had decided to open up shop to pass his time and set up a successful enterprise, surprisingly. Truth be told, self-defence and soldier duty was clearly not something made for me. Not to say there was no need for it, but the ideals eschewed by these institutions were in conflict with the enlightened ideas that yours truly carried. Mom had tried to push me for that once, and I had rebelled _hard _against it. After all, what need was there for your fists if words could achieve the same effect? And besides, Hikigaya Hachiman always preaches the virtue of non-violence.

Then there was Ooka, the only guy who you could say I was fairly acquainted with from my junior high school. An awkward, insufferable caricature of a human being whose polite demeanor could supposedly be hiding a sadist or psychopath underneath. We exchanged a quick glance, and I averted my eyes away. From my position, I could see most of the class clustered around the Hayama-Miura pair; including a girl with weirdly dyed pink hair in a bun, who seemed vaguely familiar for some reason. Maybe she was a closet otaku, and dyed them pink to role-play as a magical girl? For some reason, that took me back to my days as a _chuunibyou_ and it sent a shiver down my spine. _Never again._

I went back to my book, my sole comfort in these trying times.

And then the worst happened.

A girl called out to me from the door. "Hikigaya Hachiman? Is Hikigaya Hachiman here?"

I raised my hand. "Here." The stares I was subjected to from the rest of the class was uncomfortable, to say the least. Even Yukinoshita took the time to come out of the book and stare at me, feigning disinterest and returning to her leisurely activity.

"Hiratsuka-sensei wishes to meet you in the staff room."

To my homeroom/Japanese teacher, I was, for all intents and purposes, a model student. There was no reason for her to call me out like that. Unless she wanted to ask me about my absence, rumors of which had already spread? Teachers who cared too much were also a problem. I simply want to be left alone.

If this was a simple question of her worrying about me, why did I have this feeling of dread in the pits of my stomach?

**xxx**

"Hikigaya! Over here!" The sing-song tone of her voice irritated me as I approached her desk. The cheery air seemed to vanish from her face as I approached her, though. She rifled through a sheaf of papers, producing what I assume is my Japanese essay.

"Hikigaya, what the hell is this contemptible piece of literature you call an essay?"

Truth be told, there was no meaning in my essay. I simply thought that stringing together some fancy words would make me come off as smart. Who knew that this would blow up in my face instead?

_Heh. Blow up. _Ending the letter there had been a stroke of genius. Cower at my writing presence, woman!

The very same stack of papers was now rolled up and hit me on the head, breaking me out of the fever dream. The damage done was more metaphysical than physical.

"Hikigaya, pay attention!"

"Yes, Sensei."

"Have you joined any clubs yet?"

Woman, it's literally my first day in school. Cut me some slack.

"No."

"Interested in any?"

"Not particularly."

"Then this works well. Consider this your punishment." She took the time to finish the last few papers she was grading, leaving me to stand there awkwardly while the faculty furtively glanced at me.

"Come on, let's go." I nod and meekly follow her, unsure of what would happen next.

Now I realize where that dread originated from. Because I was standing in a place I never expected to be in, ever.

Despite Sobu High's focus on its sports programmes, the scene here looked quite bland. There were only 3 people practicing here and none of them seemed particularly impressive, especially that boot-licking bastard Ooka. These players would get crushed in the Inter High almost instantly and mercilessly. Sensei motioned towards the players, at which point Ooka lapped forward hungrily, almost like a pet dog being shown a bone and asked to play 'fetch'.

"Ooka, how's the practice coming forward?"

"It's going great, Sensei."

If you call amateurs lobbing shuttles around like baseball players practice, then yes; Sobu could have its own star baseball team, given time.

"Good, good. Listen, you mentioned about Hikigaya being good at badminton, right?"

"Correction. I _used _to."

"Yeah, he was a consistent champion of the prefectural tournaments in junior high." Ooka continued, seemingly unconcerned with my statement.

"That takes a load off my shoulder. Hikigaya here has kindly agreed to join the badminton club as an official member."

Hold on, what's with this anime-like cliché? A loner like me gets roped into some shady business day one of his high school debut, shenanigans ensue, character development occurs and the guy gets the girl. Or the anime is put on hold at a harem-like impasse.

I want none of this. I just want my peace and quiet.

"No."

"Come again?" Her harsh tone meant that my unexpected defiance probably rubbed her the wrong way.

"I said NO, Sensei. I never agreed to joining the club."

"Look here, Hikigaya. This is not optional. Every student is required to participate in club activities during their first year here. You are no exception. Might as well do something you are good at."

"Really? My conversation with the principal seemed to indicate that I was not obliged to play again anyway." I mildly replied, knowing that she had to be wrong. "And besides, if it's really required, I can join any two-bit club out here, right? Joining the badminton club is not necessary to fulfill that." Take that.

"Urgh!" Sensei's face fell flat as she pouted like a child whose candy had been stolen by the older sibling. "And to think that I had you…" Oi, what's with that kiddy face? You're an adult, you know? Act more like one.

This also apparently served to clear the tension in my head, since I could think more clearly now.

"Is that it, Sensei? If so, I'll be leaving now." I adjusted my bag and turned back, exiting the way I came.

"Hikigaya…" Sensei murmured, although I was too far for the words to reach my ears.

**xxx**

Sleep did not come easy to me these days. As a boy who used to spend 8 hours a day of his life on strenuous exercise, it was hard to find anything that would help keep my body occupied for so long. It also felt like I as putting on fat around my tummy, though that could just be my paranoia. Sitting around, doing mostly nothing felt… empty. There was a lot of time I got for thinking and self-reflection.

"_Drop."_

"_Net."_

"_Drop."_

"_Net."_

"_Drop."_

"_Net."_

"_Come on, you're slow Hachi! Any slower, and I'll dress you up in cute pink skirts and call you a girl!" The authoritative tone of the voice never changed emotion. It felt raw, powerful. As if it had the ability to command anything, given the right platform._

"_Can we stop for today, please? My legs hurt."_

"_A man should never complain about pain. Pain makes you strong. If you feel pain, that means you're not dead yet. And you will give it your all till you die. Because that' how heroes are made."_

"_Why am I the one who has to do this? Komachi gets to play in the park, and not me? Not fair."_

"_What Komachi does and doesn't do is none of your concern. Be concerned with what you're failing to do. Besides, you're the one who made this choice. Man up and face it." Unconcerned with the tiredness and the pain shooting up my legs, we continued._

"_Drop."_

"_Net."_

"_Drop."_

"_Net."_

…

Damn you, brain! Why can't you let any happy memories circulate around when I need it the most? Well, it could be that I don't really have any happy memories to speak of. Or maybe all of my previous happy memories have been overwritten by the newer ones.

I reflected on my actions today. It had been easy to say no to Sensei today, but was that it? Would anyone looking at it from the outside not simply think that I was running away from my problems? How much would she pursue me before realizing that I was a lost cause? A good-for-nothing whose time in the spotlight was now over? A star which had reached its zenith and crashed back to Earth as the fake he truly was?

There was no need to hurt over this, I mused. Because there is no way I was at fault here. I'll make Sensei give up again if she pushes me. Life will return to normal, and I get to remain in the status quo as it always was. No muss, no fuss.

Then why did I feel guilty for what happened today?

In any case, I know only one thing that'll remain a fact.

I, Hikigaya Hachiman, absolutely, unreservedly, unequivocally; HATE badminton with every fiber of my being, and that will not change, ever.

* * *

The entrance ceremony was supposed to start in the next 15 minutes, and already it had started to feel uncomfortable in here, with the auditorium packed and the exhaled breath of every student warming up the air here. I barely suppressed my urge to yawn. Mother used to tell us that it was unbecoming of ladies to show actions like yawning, picking noses, playing with the nails. Or worse. The auditorium had descended into chaos, the cacophony of students' voices gradually reaching a din. It lasted a good while before a mike test tap brought everyone back to their senses. It seems the principal had been standing there and no one bothered to stop and see. Talk about no presence.

His welcome speech was pretty run-of-the-mill, and I wondered how someone like him even commanded control of an institution this big and powerful. No style or substance in the man. He continued on for a good 5 minutes before abruptly moving on to the closing remarks. The applause was there, but not heartfelt. There was no reason to. The announcer came back up on stage.

"With this, I would like to call on stage our current Student Council President, Yukinoshita Haruno-san!"

The sound of meager claps preceded her arrival, which was not surprising for now. Because very soon, the air around here was going to change noticeably.

After all, Nee-san was the very opposite of what that man was.

She was _charismatic._ She had a presence that naturally caused people to gravitate towards her. In their eyes, she was the epitome of perfection: good looks, grades and she could even talk her way into or out of anything. A pure socialite, like her mother.

Few knew of the dark thing she hid inside her mask of an outgoing girl.

It was not going to be hard for her to hold the attention of a crows this gullible. After all, she was Nee-san.

"Uh, so with the advent of the beautiful cherry blossoms all over Japan, we members of Sobu High, similarly welcome you first-years." A pindrop silence ensued during which she literally yawned. It was too exaggerated to be real, though. Unfortunate perk of standing close to the stage. A wave of 'oh' followed.

"So, with that, I get that cheesy opening line out of the way." She stretched her hands and the whole auditorium erupted in laughter. What was with the crowd? Were they this dumb to fall for it so easily?

"And we continue. As announced, I am Yukinoshita Haruno and the current StuCo President. Currently it involves doing a lot of work and quite a bit of running around, so excuse my impertinence if I end up getting angry at one of you, okay?" To drive home the point, she winked which probably dropped a few hearts. Cheers and hoots followed. What a rowdy bunch.

"This school was established in 1953 during a time American education reforms were hitting our country. They wanted to reform our education system to control us children, to create adults that would be sympathetic to them in the future. But it also exposed Japan to the outside world. It broke us free of our years of Isolationist policy. Made us realize that ignoring the world was a mistake. And thus we learned and adapted. Went hard at work trying to prove ourselves the best. And we have.

Today, Japan stands among the very best of the best in every field. Science & Technology, Arts, Business; Japan has been at the forefront of everything. And I am proud to say that our school has played a significant role in that. As well as the people who have studied here.

Sobu's alumni boasts of, among others, people like a former Prime Minister, multiple Diet members, chairmen of many successful businesses, actors and novelists; not to mention the many sports persons who have succeeded after coming here. Such are the shoes some of us aspire to fill. Such are the shoes some of us _will_ fill.

Thus, I think most of you know why you are here. Because you are the best of the best. Some of you are going to be on top of the country. Become a part of its complex machinery. If you've thoughts like that, good. Sobu High is just the kind of place for you. A platform where you can be the best version of yourself." The crowd had grown abruptly silent now, rapt in attention. This was the _power_ the future Yukinoshita matriarch commanded.

"But as with most things, it is just a platform. It can only do so much for you. It's up to you guys to work and use this as a springboard and propel yourself forward. After all, you will be crushed and ground to dust by people more ambitious than you if you stay complacent." For a second there, I thought she was staring at me.

"Ah, sorry. This was grimmer than I wanted it to." A few awkward laughs ensue.

"So, my point is, if you're here it means you've done good. Keep doing it. You have a goal. Do not lose sight of it. Keep working towards it. And most important of all…"

Her favorite line was coming up.

"Don't forget to have fun!" The tone of her voice as enough to carry the message across. The uproar was enough to hurt my ears. Nee-san took it as a sign that this signaled the end of her speech, whether she had any intentions of continuing it or not. She simply took it in stride, handing out a polite bow and leaving, the mask never betraying her true feelings.

I wonder, was there anyone else who understood her? Like, _truly _understood her? Knew her for what she really was? Could it be a boy?

Now that I think about it, there was this boy in middle school that she had become interested in. I remember her gushing about him all the time back then. And then, it stopped. Maybe it was more gradual than I think it was. But it did stop. Nee-san probably grew bored of her old toy and found something new, discarding him. I never asked again. Probably because I was not interested in her antics, some of which outright disgusted me. Or maybe because I thought that if I asked, I would never be able to undo the fact that I now know about it.

But a part of me still admired her for what she was, both as a person and as my sister.

**xxx**

The labcoat wearing woman ruffled her hair as she looked at the piece of paper in her hands, irritated. Everyone in class was now paying attention to her, mental simulations of how much she was going to be pain-in-the-ass running in everyone's minds. Finally she put the paper down in a slam, and turned her face up to stare at the collective before returning to the board and writing out her name.

"Hiratsuka Shizuka. That's my name, by the way. Right now, I'm trying to observe who'll be the problem students in this class. I'll say this now, usually I'm pretty affable but if any of you pisses me off for no reason, I'll let you have it." Cracking your knuckles is not a good way of making yourself seem friendly, Sensei.

"All of you heard the speech today at the entrance ceremony. While there is truth in those words, they do not capture the reality that is Sobu High now."

"Put simply, the school has regressed. Talks of us being one of the best schools of the country are the past. Now, it is a school like any other. A school which used to claim prize at nationals, has not even won any awards in any prefectural tournament for the past 8 years." Quite a few murmurs erupted from the audience, who probably did not expect the frankness.

"Quiet!" In return, the table was being subjected to extreme violence.

"Which I why things are going to change around here now. The school has decided to become a whole lot more aggressive with its teaching methodology, which means it's going to be a whole lot more hectic for you rabble. Most of it won't hit you yet, so I'll go over the basics."

She cleared her throat and continued.

"All first years share common subjects. There will no special classrooms assigned. Based on your performances, you will be recommended an academic or sports prep class to go with in your second year. It's your choice, though I highly suggest you follow it. Special perks will be given to those in these prep classes after all, so I hope there's enough motivation for everyone to aim for these. Your academic load will be adjusted accordingly, for one."

"Then there's the matter of clubs and circles. In here, any group formed without a teacher as advisor is a circle, else it's a club. Strict standards will be enforced for those too. There will be activity review by the Student Council every two weeks and if it's deemed unsatisfactory, they will not hesitate to disband the club. All right?" Everyone nodded.

"You have a week till club activities start, so get in line or form your own till then. The first review will happen three weeks later from now. That's all. Time for attendance."

"Aoba…"

**xxx**

"Ah, Yukinoshita, you here?"

"Sensei, I distinctly remember telling you to knock before you enter." The words come out of my mouth, as if it was routine by now.

"Sorry, sorry." She sheepishly replied, unconcerned with my remark. "I used to knock, you see, but you answered."

"That's because you would enter before I have a chance to answer."

"Well, don't bother with the small details." She strolled forward to the table, grabbling a chair and plonking herself roughly on to it.

"So?"

"So what?"

"I believe you have a reason for coming here today, Sensei?" I enquired of her, since our conversation had implied this was bound to happen.

"Yeah. I actually just met with Haruno today, and…" She trailed off, leaving me to pick up the crumbs.

"She gave you the review of the Service Club?" Truth be told, while what we wanted to pursue was a worthwhile endeavor, it was bound to end in failure. Sobu's new hardline policies ensured that non-sports clubs that weren't the standard set of clubs would have a hard time cutting it.

"… Yes."

"And?" I had to keep my cool.

"The Student Council has deemed it a failure. The Service Club is to disband and cease all activities, starting today. The Service Club also cannot be re-established by _anyone _till the next year. Sorry, Yukinoshita." Nothing unexpected. Even if Nee-san weren't the Student Council President, it was not difficult to see that the result would've been the same. Though I had to wonder about that last clause. Clearly Nee-san was up to something.

The only activity that the Service Club had engaged in was assisting a girl in learning how to make cookies. She said they were to be a gift for a certain 'special someone.' I cringe inwardly at that notion.

"What happened to that girl who came in last week? Yuigahama, was it?"

"Yes, there were… improvements. I was able to fulfill her request." If you call helping improve her cookies from 'dangerously poisonous' to 'very likely cause food poisoning'; then it was surely an improvement. Regardless, we had worked together, and the past week had been fun. Sadly, such happy times were not to last.

"Well, that settles it. You are officially a part of the Going-Home Club now." What was with her tone that seemed to pity me? Even in the Service Club, most of my time passed by reading novels.

"Ah, I've got it!" Sensei seemed to have gotten out of her slump with that declaration.

She was practically beaming at this point.

"Yukinoshita, follow me." We went out, and I had no idea what was to happen.

"You might not know this, but I've been the advisor of another club for quite a while. Probably ever since your sister joined. Hell, she was a member till last year, when she suddenly decided to run for the Council. Really, sometimes I don't know what that girl's mind is on about." That one should be my line too, Sensei.

"And now I'm berating myself for not doing this sooner. Yiiiah…"

"What are you implying, Sensei?"

"Hmm? Like I said, I'm taking you to join the Table Tennis Club."

HUH?!

* * *

**A/N: I guess that does it for chapter 1. My primary motivation was to combine my love for two things and make a story out of it. The Service Club took the ax for it. The trio is still the main cast for this piece. And I decided to bring Haruno around to 3****rd**** year to keep her close to them, which will probably make or break the story.**

**Next chapter, Hachiman and Yukino both see each other play! How will that affect them moving forward?**

**Review, follow and fav the story as always. And thank you to everyone who've read and put up with the crap I've posted over the past year.**

**Also, I've taken the time to update my profile, which shows, among other things, a list of stories I'm currently working on as well as upcoming ones. Also a few ideas for stories in the far future.**

**Thanks for reading this!**

**EDIT: Somehow the custom break I inserted into my story (using three solid circles to separate individual sections) did not translate well to FF's editor; resulting in the gapless mess some of you read. Since I haven't found a way to replicate it, I am forced to use this for now. Sorry to everyone who read it without formatting.**


End file.
